Strong Enough(39)

My little cubby empties out into the main room, which is a combined living and dining room. One wall is the same stone as the chimney outside and boasts a fireplace so big I could almost stand inside it. There’s already a fire crackling in its belly. I stand for a few seconds staring at it, letting both the literal heat and the charm of a cozy fire warm me.

Although it’s not cold, there’s a nip in the air, probably from the nearby mountains, that could probably turn very quickly into a damp chill. I’ll probably be grateful for the warmth of the flames come morning.

I turn from the orange glow and take in the rest of the room. Comfy olive green furniture is angled to perfectly enjoy the logs or the view that I imagine rests beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows during the day. A chunky wooden table and six matching chairs sit against the opposite wall and, behind that, a doorway that I guess leads to the kitchen.

I walk that way, leaning around the corner to peek in at the stainless appliances and surprising accoutrements of the room. The space is laid out and accessorized like someone who uses it lives here, making me all the more curious as to whether this place belongs to Jasper or a friend. I smile to myself as I try and picture my dark, brooding companion at the stove, wielding a spatula and wearing an apron that says Kiss the Chef. Yeah, not happening.

I make my way to the front door and out onto the porch. I walk to the railing and look over an open expanse of grass that gleams in the bright light of the moon overhead. As though a magical trail sprinkled with fairy dust, it leads down a gentle slope to a dock. The planks are wide and pale, and they seem to disappear into waters that are murky, lying far outside the wide beam of blue-white moonlight. And even more magical, more mesmerizing, is the man standing at the lake’s edge, hands in his pockets, face downturned, staring into oblivion. He’s so gorgeous, yet he seems so troubled sometimes. He’s withdrawn and sullen, but I’m also beginning to see small indications of a heart inside that iron frame, tiny clues that say he might actually care. Why that should make me feel like I’ve won a grand prize is beyond me. Maybe because I get the sense that Jasper isn’t close to anyone. Not really.

I descend the steps and pad quietly across the lush grass until I’m standing beside Jasper. I glance once in his direction, staring long enough to commit his strong profile to memory. His face is bathed in a soft, silvery light that casts a shadow under his deep-set eyes and beneath his cheekbones. He looks like a statue, carved out of moonbeams and mercury. I say nothing for at least five minutes. He seems okay with that, standing still and silent beside me.

“It’s beautiful here,” I observe. He nods once, but says nothing. I stare a little longer, reluctant to take my eyes off the even more stunning beauty beside me.

I notice a hint of sadness on his face, an emotion that I’ve never seen there before. In the starkness of the night, I can almost imagine that if his skin were laid open, revealing the well-hidden soul that lies beneath, I would see scars, crisscrossing Jasper like the lashes of a sword, standing thick and white in remembrance of his pain.

I cup my elbows against the chilly breeze blowing off the water. From the corner of my eye, I see Jasper glance down at me.

“Cold?”

“Just a little.”

“I thought you’d be asleep by now. You’ve had a big day.”

I shrug. “That’s probably why I can’t sleep.”

His sigh is so light it nearly blends in with the wind. “How about a drink, then? I could use a drink.”

“That sounds good.” He sounds so . . . deflated, I feel the need to lift his spirits, to give him back the smile that he’s so stingy with. To calm him, to ease his pain. It’s stupid, I know, to want to help someone who could suck me into a black hole of emotional torment, but I’ve never been one to refuse a challenge. Jasper turns back toward the house. “And maybe some cards. Do you have any cards?”

“Cards?” he asks dubiously. “Seriously.”

I tip my head. “Well it’s not like we can talk or anything. We need some way to pass the time.”

Jasper gives me a sidelong glance that’s as hot as the fire burning inside that cabin. Even in the night, I can see it, bright as day. “I can think of several ways to pass the time that have nothing to do with talking. Or cards.”

I feel breathless and giddy, but also a little bit nervous. He’s so matter-of-fact about it that I feel a blush coming on.

“Let’s start with cards,” is all I say.

“Okay, then we’ll start with cards. We’ve got all night.”

And all day tomorrow. And the next day. And maybe even the next.